Take a Picture of Me, Harry
by Aria DC al Fine
Summary: Photos cannot lie. He loves me, even if only through the camera. SLASH HPDM. Ignoring HBP
1. Chapter 1

A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Take a Picture of Me, Harry

By: Aria DC al Fine

Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Synopsis: Photos cannot lie. He loves me, even if only through the camera. SLASH HPDM. Ignoring HBP

A/N: a weird fic spurred by a Gravitation fanfic entitled Mou Ichi Dou which means One More Time. Leave a comment about this after you read it, please.

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Prologue

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"Let me go, Potter!" The blonde boy struggled.

"No, Malfoy," His black-haired caretaker said, his grip on the paler man's bloodied hands absolute, "and stop moving so much! You'll be loosing too much blood."

'The bloody plant…I'm going to destroy it…' the Slytherin muttered and sighed. "Why does it have to be you?" he said more loudly.

"I've told you, Malfoy," Harry sighed too as he inspected the wounds, "I'm the best in Medi-wizardry Education Class."

Malfoy hesitated before asking his next question. "What about Granger?"

Harry smirked and waved his wand to clean the cuts. "She's not in the Class. She's more interested in modifying spells. I am interested too, but I don't have the brain to grasp the concepts of all those difficult charms…"

The grey-eyed boy eyed his archenemy silently as he went to retrieve a few rolls of bandages, before he asked, "Why did you choose to be in Medi-wizardry Education Class, though? Why didn't you choose other enrichment classes?"

Harry stopped dead, his back facing Malfoy. "I…"

Malfoy saw it and got the answer he wanted. "Forget it. I forget that you are such a righteous Gryffindor."

They fell silent as Harry opened the cabinet to look for some Iodine.

Everyone had been doing Devil Snare in Herbology when Malfoy's attacked him, giving him nasty cuts on his arms, legs and some parts of his chest. Professor Sprout had stopped the plant's assault, and Harry, as the best student in Medi-wizardry Education Class, was asked to treat the Slytherin in the Infirmary before the blonde could set the plant on fire. Thus placing them in the situation described above.

After he found the bottle of Iodine, Harry returned to the Slytherin and poured some on his wounds, which was still bleeding. Malfoy hissed and tried to pull his hand. "Ouch! That hurts!" he glared at Harry before pouting, "Why can't Pomfrey heal me?"

Harry stopped dead again.

Malfoy saw it and the pout was gone from his face. "Order business, isn't it?" he asked silently.

The Gryffindor looked up fast. "How do you know?" he inquired, his green eyes wide.

Malfoy sighed heavily and lay down on the bed. He offered his hands to Harry this time, and Harry took them into his care quietly, blushing slightly for asking such a stupid question. Of course Malfoy knew. The blonde was not really that ignorant about the war.

They stayed in that comfortable silence for a while, with some occasional hiss from Malfoy and a quiet 'I'm sorry,' from Harry, before Malfoy decided to talk. "I'm having my birthday in the Manor this Christmas Holiday."

"Oh?" Harry responsed, his sole attention still on the cuts on Malfoy's arms, legs and toned pale chest. The gashes looked very red on Malfoy's stark pale white skin. The Gryffindor then proceeded to wrap the bandage around each wound.

Malfoy nodded absentmindedly and stayed silent for a while before he said something again. "I'm turning eighteen soon."

Harry's eyes widened again, and he dropped the roll of bandage he was holding. It fell to the floor with a soft, muffled thud, as he raised himself on his feet.

Malfoy turned his head to look at Harry and stretched out his hand to him, untied bandages trailing behind, brown and red liquid seeping through. "Potter…" he said weakly.

Both of them knew that it was going to be their goodbye.

"Potter…" Malfoy said again, and Harry blinked his tears away. After having a conversation with a drunk Malfoy after the Halloween Ball, Harry had come to know that Malfoy really didn't have any desire to be a Death Eater, but had no other choice, since he didn't want to be on the Light side either. The two of them had been civil to each other after that, behaving even almost…friendlily to each other, pretending that the world was fine and there was no mad Dark Lord trying to rule it outside the castle.

The pretence had to be over, though. And it was killing them both.

Harry looked over his new 'friend' and gasped at the sight. Harry took his camera from his pocket, and when Malfoy was about to sit up, the Gryffindor said, "Don't move. Lie back on the bed. Keep that expression on your face."

Malfoy obeyed and let his hand fall on the bed, his grey eyes looking at the lens of Harry's camera as he moved to get a better angle, tapping his wand to change the colour of Draco's slacks to white and add stray white feathers on the bed. He stayed still as Harry snapped a few pictures, his breath soft and his face dejected, but at the same time almost expressionless.

_Perfect_…Harry thought, and released the breath he didn't realise he was holding.

Harry had started taking pictures since Colin and Dennis Creevey died last year, sacrificing themselves for their hero. It had been their last wish then, for Harry to continue their dream of taking pictures of beautiful sceneries and keep people happy with the photos, so, feeling guilty but determined, Harry granted their wish. He soon found himself immersed with it though, and now he was inseparable from Colin's camera. Only, Harry preferred muggle photographs to magical ones, because only then he can _truly_ capture the beauty of a moment, of an expression on a person's face.

Harry put down his camera and smiled uneasily at Malfoy as the blonde asked, "Are you done yet?" The Gryffindor nodded before returning back to taking care of his patient's injuries. "Sorry about that," he blushed, "it was…breathless."

"Hmm…" the blonde only said before he hissed again as Harry poured more Iodine to his gashes.

* * *

_**You-Know-Who Finally Defeated!**_

_Azkaban is having a field day today, as all Death Eaters were caught yesterday, after You-Know-Who was finally defeated by the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, graduate of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry year 1991-1998 and the youngest Seeker in history ever, after years of struggle and wars. You-Know-Who's body was cremated publicly and sealed by the strongest magic possible so that he will not resurrect again. More details about You-Know-Who's last breath…_

_

* * *

_

"_Draconis Lucius Malfoy," the judge looked disdainfully at the thin blonde boy standing in the centre of the courtroom, his pale hands bound behind his back, "You are sentenced to punishment for being a Death Eater. However, because you surrendered willingly, and you have no records of murder, we are not going to give you a death sentence. No, the court had decided to exile you to the Muggle World. You are never to enter the Wizarding World ever again, and your wand is to be snapped to pieces. Do you have any say about your punishment?"_

_The last Malfoy on earth shook his head and, with his head bowed, declared, "I agree to receive my intended punishment."_

_The judge nodded to the wizard next to him, and he snapped Malfoy's ebony wand to halves with a resounding crack. The judge nodded again before turning to the blonde boy, "now, you may leave, Mr. Malfoy."_

_The Aurors were latching onto the ex-Slytherin's side when Harry Potter stood up from his seats and shouted, "It's not fair! He didn't do anything, he was just there!"_

_The judge looked critically at the Saviour of their world. "Yes, Mr Potter, but he was a Death Eater, and we cannot let Death Eaters go unpunished."_

_Harry protested. "But-"_

"_It's okay, Potter," Malfoy said to him from between the Aurors, "I will be fine."_

_The green-eyed man looked at his ex-enemy in disbelief. "But you know nothing about the Muggle World! You may get killed there!"_

_Malfoy smiled at Harry, the first sincere smile he had ever given the Gryffindor after years of darkness, and Harry genuinely wished he could take a picture of it. "I'll be fine, Potter," the blonde said one last time, before the Aurors pushed him out of the room._

"_No…" Harry slumped back to his seat, "no…"_

_The judge looked down to his papers and cleared his throat. "Now, we shall proceed to the trial of Ms Pansy Parkinson…"_

_

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****__Saviour of the Wizarding World Disappeared!_

_Harry Potter, 21, also know as Saviour of the Wizarding World, the former Boy-Who-Lived and The Most Eligible Bachelor in the Wizarding World had disappeared since ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy was exiled to the Muggle World. Everyone claim that he could not be found anywhere. Is his disappearance related to Malfoy's exile? If so, what is their relationship, really? Details about their relationship at school are provided on page…_

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TBC

A/N: So? What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

**Take a Picture of Me, Harry**

By: Aria DC al Fine

Disclaimer: Not mine

Chapter 1

Harry smiled blankly at the flashing cameras, annoyance fleeting through his no-longer-bespectacled green eyes. How bright, he thought bitterly at the blitz, how white. But this whiteness was different from a certain someone's whiteness. No, it was very different, Harry mused as a reporter approached him.

"So, Mr Evans," the brown-haired young woman said enthusiastically, "we've heard that your photograph, which is entitled 'Broken Angel', wins the annual award, making you the most famous new-comer in the photography world. What are your feelings? And what do you think about that photo?"

"Hmm," Harry furrowed his eyebrows, "I was shocked, really," he answered honestly, still annoyed at the blinding blitz, "I didn't think that many people will like it that much. About that photo…I don't quite know what to say…" he paused again, "I'm proud of it…but yet, at the same time, I feel…a little sad. It was a personal photo, you see, a secret moment between me and my model…I'm not 100 percentwilling to let everyone see it, but beauty has to be shared, so here it is…"

The reported nodded and jolted something down in her notes. Harry eyed the little book warily, silently praying that her accuracy was better than Rita Skeeter's Quick Quill's Notes. He smiled again as soon as she looked back up, of course. "Another question, Mr Evans: why is that photo entitled 'Broken Angel'?"

Harry shook his head mentally. Those hopeless people, he sighed in his heart, before he leaned to her, making the reporter blush. "Let me ask you something too, miss reporter," his fake smile brightened, "have you and all these photographers here seen the photo?"

Her cheeks turned even redder, but the cause of it was embarrassment now. "No…" she replied to the gorgeous young but talented photographer in a small voice.

"Then," Harry turned and gestured to the Gallery, "shall we see it?"

He walked to the building and entered it without looking back, assuming that the reporter and all those other people would follow him. He was right. They walked passed other photographers' photos in that joint exhibition until they reached the last room. Harry went to the door and opened it for them. "Come, and enjoy the beauty," he stated and smiled softly.

The reporter and her fellow colleagues entered the room and gasped as they laid their eyes on the big photo on the wall.

It was a photo of a handsome blonde boy, who was in his late teen age. His slim but toned body was wrapped in white shirt and slacks. His shirt was opened, showing a stretch of lightly muscled chest and stark gashes that seemed so red on his soft-looking pale white skin. His silky hair, which was so blonde it almost looked silver under the moonlight, was sprawled on the white pillow, while his arms, which were full of cuts, were lying tensely on the white bed, one hand clutching the sheets desperately. His injuries were swathed in loose bandages that were trailing around him, blood seeping through the material. The most impressing thing were his grey eyes, though, which, on first glance, may look indifferent, but after looking into those orbs a bit longer, one would find that they were laden with not only immense fear, sadness, pain, helplessness and weariness but also a sense of resignation, fascinating every onlooker, making it impossible for them to look away.

The blonde looked extremely heartbreaking, but acquiescent and tired; the total whiteness surrounding him, which made him radiate purity off his form like waves, the bandages, his blood, the uncovered wounds and the stray white feathers scattered around him made him look like-

"An angel-" the reporter whispered, agape, the breath caught in her throat, "a Broken Angel."

All other spectators nodded quietly and stood still, as if they were afraid to further break the vulnerable angel. It hurt their hearts to look at the photo, but they couldn't take their eyes away…

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Harry sighed, snapping everyone out of their trance when the air of sorrow was too thick. It was hard not to be affected. Until now, even Harry's heart still ached when he looked at the photo.

The reporter turned to him meekly. "Mr Evans," she breathed, still very much touched by the brokenness of the angel, "May I know…who this person is…?"

Harry smiled at her, a true sincere smile, and started, "he's the person I loved."

The reporter's brown eyes widened. "Oh?" she responded.

The green-eyed man's smile became larger. "I'm kidding. He was my schoolyard archrival, actually. We hated each other's guts. But then…" the smile disappeared from his face, "something happened. I began to feel this new feeling around him, and before I had the chance to realise what the feeling was we were separated. I hadn't seen him again ever since…" he ended wistfully and bowed his head.

The reporter took sympathy at this compassionate young photographer and touched his hand. "W-what's his name?" she asked again.

Harry looked at her and blinked. "Why do you want to know?"

Her facial expression was firm when she returned, "we'll help you look for this person. Right, guys?" she turned to her coworkers. All of them nodded to her and she turned back to Harry, her lips set to a wide grin. "So?"

Harry continued to look at her before he smiled and chuckled softly. "His name is Draco Malfoy," he confessed to the young woman.

"Draco Malfoy. Peculiar name, huh? The dragon with a bad faith? Nevertheless, we'll surely find him, Mr Potter," the reporter smiled again, "now, if you excuse me, I should proceed with the filming…"

As the young brunette turned to leave, Harry called her. "Err…miss reporter?"

She turned her head to look at the twenty-two-year-old man.

Harry smiled to her, the most sincere smile he could ever give her. "Thank you."

The reporter only said, "You're welcome," before she walked out through the door and talked to the cameraman.

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"…filled with many photographs, but as you have already guessed, the best photo in the exhibition…"

Draco turned the volume of the television down before he continued to clean the place with a rag. The blonde did not want to admit it, but all his detentions with Filch, where he had to polish the trophies in the Trophy Room, were proving to be useful after all.

After he was exiled to the Muggle World, Draco walked around the city for days, feeling cold and extremely hungry. When he finally collapsed, he was found by a big-sized Muggle who owned an antique shop. The man took him home, and when he found out about the blonde's situation, had complied to give the exiled wizard a job. Now, Draco was working as a janitor in the antique shop. Sometimes, because he had good eyes, Draco helped with the antiques too. There were a lot of work, and the money was not that good, but the ex-Slytherin didn't complain. He got along well with the Muggle and that was all he could ask for. Draco didn't know what he would do if he were to have an abusive boss or if he were to resort to prostitution.

The grey-eyed man who was much thinner than he used to be was polishing the glass shelves, one roughened with labour hand wiping the sweat off his temple, brushing his long hair aside, when his boss exclaimed, "Draco, come here and look!"

The blonde put his rag down into the water in the pail before joining his boss, Andre, who was watching the television, its volume turned back up, with large hazel eyes. When Draco approached him, he pulled the small skinny young man to his side and pointed at the machine. "Look, Draco!"

Draco looked at the Muggle contraception and gasped.

For he was looking at himself on the screen of the television. Or rather, his seventeen-year-old self, who was lying on the infirmary bed, bandages wrapped loosely around his wounds, looking exquisite…and almost broken…

"This photography, entitled 'Broken Angel,' is the one that wins the most honourable annual photography award. And if I may as well commend, I'd say, this photo truly deserves the award!" The reporter, a young woman with long brown hair and warm hazel eyes, said and smiled, "I was so lucky to get to see it straight in front of my eyes!" She blushed slightly at her enthusiasm before she continued, "This photograph is produced by a talented, and gorgeous (in a softer voice), newcomer, Mr Harry Evans." Potter's picture was showed on the screen, looking more handsome than ever now that his boyish fats were gone and his eyes were no longer bespectacled.

Draco's grey eyes widened in surprise. "…Potter?" he whispered unbelievingly.

Andre peered at his employee with large eyes. "Draco, is that…angel…over there really you?"

Cold fear gripped Draco's heart like ice. Ever since he had reached this unfamiliar world, he had made himself look as unattractive as possible, his body unbearably scrawny, his cheeks gaunt and his body always matted in dirt, so that no one would ever rape him, or make him into a whore. And now Andre knew how good-looking Draco could be. 'Oh God,' Draco breathed mentally, 'please don't make him sell me to prostitution…'

"Mr Evans had also claimed that he is looking for his model. His name is Draco Malfoy, aged twenty-two," the reporter said again, and Draco stopped dead, his breath caught in his throat as Andre's unsure stare changed to a firm gaze. The blonde was hyperventilating when the reporter stated, "anyone who can find him please call the TV station. There will be a reward waiting for you."

But the ex-Death Eater didn't hear the last statement. No, he was far too gone in his fear already. He screamed and struggled when Andre gripped his right arm. "Let me go!"

"Draco," Andre called the smaller male in an even voice, "calm down."

But Draco only struggled even further. "No!" he cried, "you're going to sell me to prostitution, aren't you? I'm not going to give in!"

Andre looked astonished for a long time before he actually laughed, a good-humoured laugh, before loosening his grip. "You've mistaken me, Draco," the big-sized man said kindly.

Draco stopped struggling and in turn blinked at his employer's confusedly. "Then…?" he asked in a meek voice.

The brown-eyed man put his massive hand on the blonde's head and messed his dirty hair. "Put on a set of clean clothes, won't you?" he grinned to him, "I'll bring you to Mr Evans," he said before moving to the phone.

Draco eyed the big man critically, still not moving to change his filthy shirt.

Andre sighed at the blonde. "You should give me more credit, Draco," he said in a really gentle voice. The two stared at each other for a while before someone at TV station answered the call. "Yes, STM TV station here, how may I help you?"

Andre turned his attention to the phone. "Hey. I am Andre Eton, and I claimed to have found the person Mr Evans is looking for, Draco Malfoy. Yes. Yes. I'll bring him to the office. Thank you." He hung up on the phone and said to the blonde. "So? What are you waiting for?"

Draco blushed and scuffled his feet on the floor. "I'm sorry…" he bowed his head in shame.

The muggle only laughed and clapped the paler man's shoulder in a friendly manner. "Apology accepted. Now, shoo! And don't go out of the shower until you are _completely _clean!"

"Yes!" Draco grinned before he leapt to get his toiletries.

----------------------------

Harry took the phone off his handle and yawned before answering the call. "Yes, Harry Evans here," he said almost irately, annoyed for being awaken at eight in the morning.

"Mr Evans!" the enthusiastic reporter that had interviewed him last night replied, "someone had called us and claimed that he had found Draco Malfoy and he would bring him to the office later at nine!"

Harry became completely awake then. "What?" he asked, his other hand flying up to clutch the handle of his phone as well.

The reporter laughed. "You heard me, Mr Evans."

The photographer looked dumbstruck. "That is…fast…"

"Yes, it is. It can also be a fake call, though. Well, we'll just have to see him later, right? Be in STM TV Station by nine, Mr Evans!"

"Okay," Harry replied before he put down the phone again. He stood there silently for a long time before turning to look at the 'Broken Angel' on his apartment wall. "Malfoy…" he sighed.

The photo only returned his gaze with the same sad, scared and tired stare.

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Draco fidgeted with the ends of his meticulously clean shoulder-length hair and sighed. He caught his reflection on the metal table top and looked away. It was true he might have lost a lot of weight, but when he was clean, anyone could see that he was still good looking, and it was making him feel very uneasy. Especially now, when that Potter bastard had publicised his stupid, stupid photograph…an angel? Draco? Has the Saviour of the Wizarding World turned mental? And what is he doing in the Muggle World?

Draco had a _really_ bad feeling about this…

Andre caught the blonde's nervous looks and squeezed his small hand in his own big one. "Calm down, Draco, nothing's going to happen."

The ex-Death Eater only smiled queasily back at his employer.

"It's really you!" someone gasped, and Draco looked up to find the young woman who had broadcasted the news that morning running to him and hugged him with all her might. "You're much thinner than the one in the photo, but you're definitely Draco Malfoy!"

The blonde 'oof'ed before throwing the reporter off. "Of course I'm Draco Malfoy! Can't you see it?"

The woman backed away. "Touchy, touchy…" she muttered, "Not like an angel at all, are you?" she eyed him critically.

"An angel, I've never been this insulted," Draco huffed and crossed his arms across his chest, "Potter is crazy." Andre looked mildly surprised at the blonde's new side.

Meanwhile, someone opened the door and bent down to regain his breath. "I'm sorry I'm late," the black-haired man looked up –

Only to stare eye to eye with the model of his photo.

Harry's green eyes widened. "Malfoy…" he breathed in surprise.

Draco stopped huffing and began to look surprised too. "Potter…?" his grey eyes widened as well.

They looked like each other for a while, both reminiscing over their last meeting at the courtroom before Draco stood up and frowned, "What do you mean by publicising that photo, Potter?" He looked angry, "I didn't recall that I allowed you to do so when you took it back then!"

When the ex-Gryffindor walked to him, he raised his arms to defend himself, only to find Potter holding his arm gently and whispered to him, the taller man's breaths teasing his ear. "I should tell you that I am known by the name Harry Evans here, Malfoy."

Po-Evans let go of him. Flustered and confused, Draco attempted to protest again, "Still, I didn't give you a permission to do so!"

The green-eyed man stared back at him with an even stare. "But you let me took it."

"I…" the blonde blushed even further, "I thought…you were just carried away by the moment…and…I-I thought…we were never going to see each other again…that it was our goodbye…so I let you took it…" he said weakly.

The people in the room stayed in silence for a while before Evans put his hand under Draco's chin and lifted his head up. "But we do meet again, don't we?" he said and smiled softly. "Besides, it was too beautiful to be kept a secret. Beauty must be shared, and appreciated, Malfoy."

Draco's face turned even redder, but he smiled back at Evans, nevertheless.

"Gods," the ex-Boy-Who-Lived sighed and cup the paler man's cheek, "you're much thinner than you used to be, aren't you, Malfoy? And your skin…it's rough now…"

The blonde nodded and leaned unconsciously to the touch. "But I'm fine."

Green eyes searched into grey, and Evans smiled. "You're right. You are fine, as you had promised."

Draco shrugged. "After all, I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys must keep their words…regardless of their allegiance…"

Evans smiled weakly at the sentence before he raised Draco's face again. "Malfoy," he took a deep breath, "I want to ask you something."

The ex-Slytherin frowned lightly. "What?" he asked quietly.

His ex-archrival stared at him for a long time before opening his mouth. "I would like you to be my model. Again. For some months onwards or so."

Draco jumped back, his eyes nearly as wide as saucers, as he exclaimed, "WHAT?" he forced his mouth, which was hanging open, to close. "Are you insane? Me, your model? Po-Evans, have you forgotten that we are enemies and that I hate your guts and you mine as well?"

Evans only shrugged. "Enemies don't exactly behave like this," he commented.

The ex-aristocrat furrowed his thin eyebrows. "All right, we're not enemies, then. Hadn't been since that bloody Halloween party where I bloody spilled my guts to you. But, still…" he looked at Evans again and shook his head, his silver blonde hair twirling around it. "I'm exiled, remember? I'm not supposed to touch anything that is magical or talk to anyone who is magical," Draco whispered in a low voice.

"I'd left the Wizarding World," the ex-Gryffindor countered, "It's okay."

"You did?" the blonde stared at him, "why?"

The ex-Boy-Who-Lived frowned. "A lot of reasons, mainly guilt and sorrow. Anyway, that's not the point now. Malfoy, be my model."

The pale man stood adamantly. "No…I can't…"

"Please," Evans said the word Draco would never thought that he would ever say to the blonde and the ex-Death Eater stopped dead. The ex-Saviour tried again. "I'll give you great payment, take care of your every needs, a good accommodation…please, Malfoy."

Draco was still shaking his head vehemently. "No…"

"Come on!" the reporter said, and the two ex-Hogwarts students suddenly realised that they weren't the only ones in the room. The woman winked at Evans and added, "Beauty must be shared, Mr Malfoy. Your beauty took my breath away. And I daresay: I want to see such beauty again."

Andre nodded. "Me too. Don't worry about me, Draco. I want to see such beauty captured in a photo again."

"Please…" Evans pressed him, and when Draco still hadn't answer him, he changed his tactics, "or, are you telling me that you are scared, Malfoy?"

"No!" Draco replied straight away just as what the ex-Gryffindor had predicted, "I'll bloody do it!"

Harry allowed himself a small inward smirk before exclaiming, "Good! We shall draw the contract straight away!"

The blonde realised that he had been tricked and cursed. "Shit," he looked at his ex-rival, "it's not too late to say that I change my mind, isn't it?" he asked innocently.

"Draw the contract straight away!" the ex-Gryffindor only repeated. Draco slumped to his seat and cursed again. "Shit…"

Andre smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "You can do it, Draco. I know you can do it."

The exiled wizard only gave his ex-employer a small weak smile.

"Now, now, Mr Eton," the reporter said and offered him an envelope, which was filled full of money, "here is your reward."

Draco couldn't believe his eyes (again) when the big-sized man declined it. "It's okay. I didn't bring Draco here for that purpose." He turned to the smallest male in the room and gave him a hug.

"B-but," the blonde stammered. After all, despite everything, Andre had been kind to him when he just picked his unconscious form off the road…he had been a good employer too…and for him to walk out empty-handed like this…

"Don't worry, Draco," Andre smiled, "if you want to repay me, produce many other beautiful photos, won't you?" he ruffled his blonde hair then, "only, next time, produce beautiful _happy_ pictures, won't you? I'm sure your smile looks as beautiful as your 'Broken Angel' look, if not much more," he grinned.

Draco sobbed and returned the hug before smiling to his employer, the most sincere smile he could muster. "I will, Andre, I will. Thank you for everything."

"That's the spirit," Andre released him and walked to the door, "Good day, Miss Parker! Good day, Mr Evans, and Good Bye, Draco…"

"Good Bye, Andre!" the blonde waved, "I'll see you again!"

The big brown-haired man disappeared from the door, and Draco continued to stare at it before he erased his tears and turned to look determinedly at his ex-rival. "So, Po-Evans, what should I do now?"

Harry smiled at him.

TBC

A/N: The title of the photograph ('Broken Angel') is borrowed from Gravitation fic 'Mou Ichi Dou' ('Broken Doll'), and the name 'Mr Evans' is taken from bananacosmicgirl's HP fic 'The Depths of Winter', which is very recommendable. Again, please let me know what you think about this fic. I hope I don't disappoint you all.

Love

Aria DC al Fine


	3. Chapter 3

**Take a Picture of Me, Harry**

By: Aria DC al Fine

Disclaimer: Not mine

Chapter 2

Harry grunted and put down his camera. "Not like that, Draco. Don't stand still or pose. Just do it…naturally…"

The blonde glared at his new employer. "It's kind of hard, you know, with you looming at the background, Potter."

"Harry," the photographer muttered darkly, "just ignore me, won't you?"

"A creepy pervert like you? As if I can?" Draco shot back.

"DRACO!" The ex-Gryffindor shouted desperately, losing his temper, "just do it, won't you? Imagine that I do not exist. You have the whole garden to yourself. Just…run around, and smile, won't you?"

'It's stupid…' the model muttered under his breath, but he nodded, anyway, "I'll try, Potter."

"Harry! Call me Harry, Draco!" Harry seemed like he was going to pull his hair.

Draco frowned and threw his hands up. "Why must I do it? It's just a name, anyway."

Harry glared at him hotly, "come on; call me that if 'it's just a name anyway'."

The blonde scowled at his wrong use of words and shifted his weight on his feet. "I'm just…not use to it, all right. You have been Potter for so long…and…"

Harry did put down his camera into his bag and place both his hands on Draco's shoulders. "Draco," he said, his emerald eyes staring deeply into Draco's grey ones, "You must get used to is, or else your photo won't look beautiful."

The pale man scowled again. "Who says?" he asked rhetorically, "I can just pretend. I'm a good actor"

Having given up on trying to knock sense into the blonde's stubborn head, Harry pulled a Polaroid camera from his bag and decided to just show him. "All right, now, Draco, try to look very, very sad, scared, tired but resigned like you had been in the 'Broken Angel'."

Draco scrunched up his nose, but he nodded, anyway. "Okay."

Harry nodded and pulled the camera up. "Ready?"

The blonde seemed to be trying his best to comply with Harry's wishes. "Okay," he answered when he finally settled on the expression.

Harry took a photo of it, and waited for the result to come out. He frowned at it before showing it to Draco. "Look, Draco, look at the product of your 'pretence'."

The blonde took the picture in his hands and scowled again. Okay, he looked sad, scared, tired and resigned enough, but those emotions were just on the surface, and compared to the 'Broken Angel', it looked completely fake, not beautiful at all.

Harry sighed and took the photo away. "I told you, right? It cannot compare to 'Broken Angel' at all. Hell, it doesn't even have a tenth of 'Broken Angel's beauty. Do you understand what I mean?"

Draco nodded acquiescently, admitting his mistake.

The Photographer placed his Polaroid Camera into his bag before placing his hands on his model's shoulders again. "Photos cannot lie, Draco. Your smiles, your content look, anything won't look beautiful if you're not really feeling those. These emotions get captured as well as your expression, Draco, and that's what's transferred to the people who look at your photos." He softened his grip and smiled softly. "Do you understand?"

Draco nodded again, still as weakly as he did before.

Harry released his hold and turned his back to his ex-rival. "You know, many people say that we are most beautiful when we are in love," He looked at the blue summer sky wistfully before closing his eyes, "and I agree with them."

They stayed in silence for a moment.

"The reason I ask you to call me Harry, Draco," Harry whispered when he turned around to his model and put his finger under his chin to raise his head, smiling when the blonde looked at him, "is that because I want you to learn to fall in love with me."

Draco frowned and almost pushed Harry away, "w-what-?"

"I want you to fall in love with me," Harry repeated, his hand moving to squeeze Draco's arm, "only through the camera, Draco. Only through the camera."

The ex-Slytherin blinked confusedly. "I'm afraid…I-I don't understand…"

"You only need to love me when I am taking a picture of you, Draco, only at that time," Harry said patiently, "you can hate me however you want when I'm not holding my camera, but when I do you must love me, that time only. Only then, we can produce the most beautiful photo in the world."

They fell into another silence, this one rather uncomfortable, before Draco lowered his head and began. "…I-I'm tired…I want to rest first…"

Harry nodded and pulled his hands off his model. "Rest well until tomorrow, Draco. You're still too thin. I'll…probably I'll get you a dog so that you can move more naturally here. A golden retriever. Yeah, that will be good." The photographer spoke thoughtfully to himself before he smiled softly to his model. "Rest well, Draco."

The grey-eyed man nodded. "See you…Po…Potter." He then disappeared to the apartment.

------------------------------

'_To love Harry Potter, even if only through the camera…'_ Draco tossed and turned in his new comfortable king-sized bed in Harry's guestroom, staring at the white ceiling. After a while, he scowled at it, before punching his soft pillow to make it more comfortable for him. But it was useless; sleep wasn't coming to him at all. A feeling of dread began to fill the pit of his stomach as he turned to his side. _'Am I going to be able to do it?'_

'_It's not a question of able or not – it's a must,'_ a voice said from the back of his mind, _'after all, you were the one who said it yourself, didn't you? That you'll produce the most beautiful photo in the world.'_

Draco scowled at the voice. _'At that time, I don't know that loving Harry Potter is required in the package.'_

The blonde could almost feel the voice shrugging at him. _'Only through the camera, my dear, only through the camera. What's so revolting about that guy, anyway?'_

The man on the bed sucked his breath and began, _'He's my biggest archrival-'_

'_Ex' _the voice replied smoothly. Draco ignored it and continued, _'he's a sodding self-righteous Gryffindor-'_

'_Like it'll kill you. Admit it, you like his righteousness.'_

Draco sighed. _'I'm having a conversation with my head. I must be insane…'_

'_Your own statement, not mine.'_

'_Shut up.'_

Deciding to just ignore his sodding inner voice, Draco closed his and tried to sleep. He would think about it again tomorrow. After all, he was sure that Potter wouldn't appreciate it if he was getting eye bags because of this.

-----------------------------

When his model approached him the next afternoon, looking slightly nervous with his hands in his pants' pockets, Harry smiled softly at him. "So, how's the rest?"

"Fine," Draco lied and used one hand to fidget with his hair, "H-Harry."

The green-eyed man's smile widened. "Good. Just wait for me to finish setting the camera and then we'll be starting."

The pale man bit his lip and decided to speak. "Erm…H-Harry, about having to love you through the camera-"

"I'll change my words," the photographer said without looking up from his complicated looking camera, "You don't need to love me through the camera. All you need to do is imagine that instead of the camera, the person you're in love with is watching you. That should be easier."

The blonde shuffled his feet. "I-I…don't have anyone I love…"

Harry looked up then, and raised his eyebrow. "Really? How about a former lover? Pansy Parkinson?"

The ex-Slytherin scowled darkly at the mention of her name. "No, I hated that pug," he almost spat before his look changed to one of worries, "…a-and no…I don't have any other former lover…"

"And here I was, thinking that you were some sort of Slytherin Sex God or something," Harry muttered and pinched his temple while the blonde blushed deeply. "Gods…this is harder than I previously thought…"

"I-I… it's okay! I…I-I have decided to just love you…through the camera, that is," the normally eloquent heir of Malfoy bloodline almost stuttered, his cheeks turning redder.

The photographer looked up at the blushing angel and laughed good-humouredly. "Thank you," he smiled to his model as he cupped his pale pinkish face.

They stayed in that position for a long time, Draco trying to avoid looking into his employer's eyes when suddenly a big figure barked at them from behind Harry's back and leapt at him when the ex-Gryffindor moved away, knocking him off his feet. The blonde opened his eyes and looked at the creature with awe and surprise.

It was a dog. A fully-grown golden retriever, to be exact. He (or is it a she?) was beautiful, with long and silky golden fur and a lively pair of dark eyes, which were staring at the petite male in curiosity.

"I told you that I was getting a dog, didn't I?" Harry bent down and hugged the big dog, pulling it off Draco's body at the same time, "His name is Cliff. Cliff, say hello to Draco."

The dog sat up straightly and barked happily, wagging his tail.

Draco laughed as he squatted and reached out to scratch Cliff's ear, smiling as the dog leaned to his touch. "He's a beautiful dog."

Harry shrugged. "Of course. I can't very well be getting_ you_ a stray, scruffy dog, can I? It won't look good in the photo."

The blonde nodded, his cheeks tingeing pink at the underlying compliment. He continued to pet the dog before Harry tapped his shoulder. "Walk him with you around the garden, won't you? Just do it naturally. I'll take some snaps here and there, and if you happen to notice the camera, remember: _you are in love with me through the lens._ Now, go."

Draco stood up, and they took off. Soon enough, the petite ex-Slytherin was already chasing the over-energetic golden retriever around the apartment estate's large and deserted backyard.

"Cliff!" the blonde huffed, cursing as the dog refused to turn to him and quickened his pace, running as fast as his rather short legs could bring him, "wait for me, Cliff!"

Draco was breathing heavily, and his face was pink because of physical exertion, but despite all that, his grey eyes were shining happily, a small content smile tugging his pale thin lips upwards a little. In short, he looked strangely beautiful. Harry raised his camera silently and took a snap on that picture.

The two golden-haired males (one a human and the other a dog) continued to run until they reached the pool. Cliff stuck one paw to the water curiously before literally jumping in, shocking Draco and the pool manager. Thankfully, the dog didn't stay in the pool for long. When he was on the grounds again he shook his whole body to get the water off his fur, sending droplets of gleaming cold water to the blonde, who was standing near the dog, and Draco closed his eyes and crossed his hands up to prevent the water from wetting his clothes, laughing at Cliff, who looked like a huge drowned rat now, afterwards. Harry took photos of his model's astonished face, the scene where Draco was defending himself from the spraying water, and another of Draco's free laughter.

They continued to roam around the park until noon, the sun drying Cliff's fur. The dog rolled down the slight hill as Draco tripped down, and as they sat up they were laughing and barking happily at each other. Then, the blonde moved to hug the mutt's neck and pet his long golden fur. Cliff showed his appreciation by snuggling to his owner before licking his face, making Draco blink and yelp ahead of laughing again at the feeling of wet sand-papery tongue on his face. Harry walked closer to them and took two photos of them.

Suddenly, when Draco was leaning his head comfortably on the big creature's warm body, his long white blonde hair sprawling over Cliff's darker golden hair, he turned and caught sight of Harry's telltale camera lens focusing on him.

For a fleeting moment, Draco almost panicked, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Relax Draco, relax. You love that person behind the camera. _He clenched his fist determinedly. _Yes, someone you love is watching you!_

The model opened his eyes, and Harry gasped.

The expression on Draco's face was one of pure contentment. His lips were curling slightly in a soft smile. Strands of silvery hair were falling to his expressive eyes, which were half closed in satisfaction. The most impressing thing, though, was that there was _love_ in those grey orbs, happiness and joy and pure love shining to the camera, as though beckoning his lover to join his laying lazily under the sun, and taking Harry's breath away.

"Impressive," the photographer muttered and took a snap of him, forever capturing the beauty in a picture.

Draco heard that comment and blushed. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Harry put down his camera and shook his head. "No. I should be the one to say that," he approached the blonde and smiled. "Thank you, Draco. For being able to love me through the camera," He offered his model his hand.

The blonde took the hand and smiled back at him employer. "You're welcome, Harry."

The two stood in silence before Cliff hosted himself to his feet and barked before running in the direction of their apartment.

Harry stared at his pet and laughed. "Cliff's right. You must be tired. Let's retreat for the day."

Draco nodded, and they took off in the direction of their still enthusiastic dog back to their flat.

----------------------------

"Ocean's World?" Draco asked confusedly. Cliff whined and the blonde continued brushing the dog's fur immediately, silently apologising to him.

"Yeah," Harry said absentmindedly, smiling as he was going through the photos he took the other day, "It has big aquariums. Contains lots of fishes. Consider it as a treat for your satisfactory work a few days ago."

The ex-Slytherin blinked at him. "Aquariums?" he repeated.

The black-haired man turned to his model then, his green eyes wide. "You don't know what an aquarium is? Never been to one?" he asked disbelievingly.

Draco shook his head, his grey eyes still looking at Harry blankly.

The ex-Gryffindor looked taken aback. "I thought you have, you know…since you have been in the Muggle World for a year and more now…"

The last Malfoy alive on earth shook his head again and looked down at the floor. "I was too busy working…" he said dejectedly.

Harry shook his head and walked to the other man, berating himself inwardly for being so insensitive. "Doesn't matter," he said to him and smiled, "I'll take you there now."

Draco smiled back at him and the knot in his heart loosened immediately. The blonde put down the comb and gave the dog one last pet before asking Harry, "Is Cliff going with us?"

The ex-Boy-Who-Lived frowned and shook his head. "I don't think so. Pets are not allowed." He sent his employee an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

As if knowing that he was going to be left out, Cliff snuggled to Draco and whined again.

The ex-Death Eater frowned at the dog before sending it an apologetic look too. "Sorry, Cliff. You heard what Harry said."

The golden retriever whined one last time before scurrying to his bed, apparently angry at his masters.

Harry and Draco looked at the dog's antiques amusedly before laughing with each other. When the laughter died down, the bigger man of the two offered his hand to the paler man. "Shall we go now?"

Draco took it and nodded, but not before smiling at his company again.

-------------------------

"Whoa…" the exiled wizard gasped in awe as he took in the sight of many kinds of fishes swimming in huge glass water tanks muggles called 'aquariums'. He ran to the nearest one and pressed his hands on the glass, his face erupting to a big grin as he watched a herd of anglerfishes swimming pass him. Harry laughed at the blonde's enthusiasm before he approached him. "So how? Do you like the place?"

Draco turned to Harry and grinned even wider. "Of course! Thanks, Harry!"

The photographer smiled back at him and shrugged, "let's explore the place, shall we?"

Harry took lots of photos that day. It had been in his mind, of course, but it wasn't his main purpose. No, his main purpose was to let his model enjoy himself once in a while.

And enjoying himself Draco did. He ran enthusiastically around the place, watching the fishes closely before breaking into a series of breathtaking grins, in which Harry took photos of. The photographer also took a picture of his model when the blonde was peering curiously at a seahorse, or looking frightfully at the sharks and the piranhas, or staring in awe at the big whale, laughing when Draco poked his finger at the glass to surprise a docile looking fish and got surprised himself when the fish bloated itself to a big and sharp-looking needle ball before taking photos of those too. Harry was having a field day, indeed.

They walked around for some more time before reaching the centre of the building, where the owner placed dozens of different species of fishes and marine creatures into a huge column-shaped aquarium. Draco ran to it too and looked at the fishes in awe before turning to the other man. "Harry, look!" he called him.

The blonde was mildly surprised when Harry was raising his camera at him.

This time, Draco didn't panic. He simply continued to grin widely and pressed his hand on the glass, where dozens of colourful fishes, big and small, were swimming before him, the water seeming so blue behind him, making his pale form glow, still looking at Harry in happiness, and love, which lightened his handsome face. _Harry is watching me,_ he thought to himself and his grin widened, _the person I love is watching me. I'm so happy._

Harry's breath was caught in his throat when he pressed his finger on the button of his camera. _Beautiful_ he rasped mentally, _simply too beautiful._

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so. Dozens of other people in the room stopped walking pass them and watched, their feet rooted to the ground, as the blonde continued to radiate joy and love from his twinkling silvery grey eyes, their breaths caught in their throat as well. It was that beautiful.

Eventually, Draco realised that the space between Harry and himself was clear, and he looked around at the people, who were still standing still, in confusion. "Err…" he started awkwardly, "you can walk pass, you know… I'm sure Harry's finished…"

No one moved. They acted like they hadn't heard his voice.

"Err…" Draco frowned, "people?"

Suddenly, a girl walked up to him and asked, in awe, "Are you a model?"

"Eh…" the blonde's cheeks turned pinkish in embarrassment as he nodded, "…kind of…"

"I know!" another woman exclaimed as she approached the ex-Slytherin too, "You're the model of 'Broken Angel', aren't you? The one that wins the annual award this year?"

Draco blushed even further and stepped away from them, effectively pressing himself to the glass of the column-shaped aquarium, "Y-yes…I am…"

As soon as he said that, everyone gasped audibly and went to him like bees buzzing around an extremely sweet-smelling flower. "May I have your autograph, please? Does that mean that Mr Evans is nearby as well?"

_Oh God…help me…_The model thought as he looked at the horde of people surrounding him, his heart beating faster in panic, "I-I…"

Finally, after pushing through the crowd, Harry came to his rescue. He raised one hand and pressed it against the glass next to Draco's frightened form, effectively defending him from the wild mob of fans. The ex-Gryffindor winked at the closest female, who blushed at him as she realised who he was, and said smoothly, "I'm sorry, but Draco and I are kind of busy right now." Draco was looking up at his employer in relief when the taller man enclosed his pale smaller hand in his own big hand. "See you in the next exhibition," Harry said to everyone in general, before forcing his way out of the building, his precious model tucked safely behind him.

It wasn't until they were safely sitting in Harry's car, a gorgeous blood-coloured Ferrari, did Draco release the breath he didn't realise he was holding. "I was so scared," he remarked.

Harry only smirked at his model. "Yes. Couldn't help it, really. You took their breath away. So did mine."

Draco blushed furiously. "H-Harry!" he attempted to protest.

The photographer only continued to smirk.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Harry asked, as he pulled to a stop due to a red traffic light, "how was the trip, though? Did you like it?"

The pale man's face broke into a grin almost instantaneously. "Very much. Thanks, Harry."

The other man smiled back and replied, "You're most welcome."

The green traffic light turned on, and as they drove back to the apartment, Draco looking over the window at the streets and Harry watching the roads ahead of him, each of them had a content smile on their face.

--------------------------------

"An interview?" Harry asked before giving her a critical stare.

"Yes, an interview," the new photographer's manager, an energetic small-sized woman with short dark brown hair , a pair of big blue eyes, and a streak of what could be considered as sadism (only in photos, though) repeated, her hands clasping together over her head, pleading him. "Please! It'll just be some questions about your past in general, and your model's past too."

"Mine?" Draco interjected with a startled face from his position next to his employer before he shuddered and shook his head, "I…I don't want to…"

"And so am I," Harry said firmly to his manager, glaring at her when she tried to give him puppy eyes, which were wasted, anyway, "Cancel that interview, whatever it's for. You drag me all the way to this God knows what office for a single interview, you clearly have the nerves, haven't you?" He sharpened his glare, which became scary enough to make anyone cower and scramble out of the room.

Luckily, just like how Harry wasn't affected by her puppy eyes, the woman was also unaffected by the photographer's malicious glare. No, the manager still tried to convince her stubborn young colleague. "Please, Harry! Stop being so mysterious! It's getting old…"

"The only one who care about our pasts is you, and our every other rabid fan girl, but that's out of point, anyway," the green-eyed man said irately, "My fellow photographers and people who truly appreciate photos don't care. Something is kept a secret for a reason. We don't want to talk about our past for a very good reason. All you need to know is that we went to the same private school. You just have to accept it."

They continued to glare at each other, Draco looking alternately at the two stubborn individuals with an uneasy stare, before the woman finally gave up (thank god, or else they would be sitting there for ages… how they could work for one another is beyond me) and stated, "Fine! Just let the magazine's crew take a good photo of your model, would you?"

Harry turned to the blonde and tilted his head. "So, how, Draco? Are you up to it?"

The ex-Slytherin sighed in relief inwardly, glad that the heated staring contest was over, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine with that."

"Okay!" the manager stood up and clapped her hands cheerfully, before grabbing the pale man's blonde and dragged him with her. "Let's go to the studio!" Harry sighed and followed.

An hour later, as Draco was standing awkwardly in the small studio, he was about to regret his choice. _How could I be so stupid?_ He thought nervously, throwing the magazine's photographer, a middle-aged man with long unkempt dark hair, ruddy skin and scary black beady eyes, unlike those of Snape's, and the rest of the crew anxious glances.

It was the blonde's time getting shot in a studio. Oh, no, after the unexpected photo session between the aquariums, Harry and Draco had several more photo sessions, but they were always done outside, like on the streets, or in the zoo, and only the both of them were involved each time, so the ex-Slytherin didn't feel confined to express his own emotions to Harry's camera. In this restricted room, with so many people expecting him to pose for a good, beautiful photo, Draco felt very uneasy.

"The setting's all right," the crew shouted after fixing the lights, and the disheveled photographer nodded. "We'll start now," he said gruffly, "Mr Malfoy, if you're please?"

Draco nodded meekly and took a deep breath. _Relax Draco. Just do it as usual._

The blonde model tried to, do it as he usually did with Harry, but somehow, it was hard with this scruffy photographer. He tried to smile naturally, imagining that it was the person he loved behind the camera, even going as far as to imagine it was _Harry_ behind that camera, but too many people were watching and he didn't know what to do with his hands and every time he looked into the photographer's pitch black eyes he was scared, and then the people was frowning at him, and…

"E-enough," Draco said after a few unsatisfied snaps, and fell to his knees, his arms hugging himself. "I-I can't do it," he muttered dejectedly, his voice shaking faintly. He was on the verge of breaking down. The room fell into a thick unbearable silence for a while before the crew talked to each other in hushed voices. Fed up by those, Draco looked up at Harry, who was standing next to the magazine's photographer, looking at the model with concerns in his green eyes, and the blonde asked, "Why can't you just be the one to take my picture, Harry?" his tone exasperated.

Harry looked slightly surprised before he approached the blonde. "Are you okay? Is it an old claustrophobia kicking in?"

The blonde looked up and sniffed. "Partially," he admitted, "but what I really can't stand is all these people around, Harry. And the photographer!" he added in a smaller voice, "Him and his black eyes and his 'shaggy wild dog' looks are giving me the creeps."

The ex-Gryffindor laughed at the retort before turning to the magazine's manager. "Is it okay for me to be the one to take his picture?"

The tall executive woman looked down pensively. After a while, she finally said, "It would be better if our photographer can take it…but it is fine, Mr Evans, yes, you're allowed to take the picture."

Harry nodded to himself and retrieved his own camera from the bag he had been carrying with him. "May I use my own camera and give negative to you later? It's easier to set my own camera, after all, since I know it very well…"

The woman consented to him straight away. "Do as you like, Mr Evans, you're the photographer now."

The talented young man sent her a grateful smile before settling himself in an all-familiar task of setting his camera, or rather, Colin's modified old camera, as his own manager inched closer to him. "Not very talented, isn't he?" the small-sized woman said in a low voice, her finger pointing at the blonde slightly, who was sitting on his bottoms on the floor now, "he may be attractive…but if he's like this…he won't be a successful model."

Harry stifled his laugh before shaking his head in amusement. "Emily," he said to his manager, "being a model had never been in Draco's mind before I asked him to be my model."

Emily looked positively mortified. "What? With a gorgeous body and a handsome face like his?"

The green-eyed man nodded. "It's not really that much of a wonder. Oh, he does realise that he's good-looking; he was just more focused in his studies when we were at school. That, and what to do to get each other into troubles, of course," his lips curled to a small grin at the reminiscence of their worry-free old days at Hogwarts.

"Then why did you ask him to be your model? Since he's not professional?" Emily's blue eyes widened. Her colleague never ceased to surprise her with his characteristics.

Harry raised his camera to try its resolution before frowning at the black muggle contraception. "Originally, Draco was a person who doesn't trust anyone easily. He still is. But once he decided that he can trust you," he said as he was changing the light setting a little, "he'll give you everything he has, not holding anything back. Not even a millimetre of his beautiful smile." The photographer's exquisite face broke to a smile as he finally got the settings he wanted.

"All right!" Harry said loudly to catch everyone's attention, "I'm about to start," he announced, mainly to his model, "get ready, Draco."

The blonde looked up at him with something akin to fear residing his eyes, "H-harry…" he whispered as he glanced around nervously.

"Just ignore the other people, Draco," Harry instructed before raising his camera at the ex-Slytherin, "are you ready?"

Draco nodded hesitantly. He smiled at the camera, but when he caught sight of the magazine's photographer's black eyes, he cringed. Harry sighed. _This is not working._

"Draco," he said to the blonde calmly, "do you remember the day Neville answered Snape's question for the first time?"

The said professor's godson furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of his ex-schoolmate's motive. "H-Harry?"

"Do you remember?" the ex-Gryffindor repeated his question more firmly.

Draco nodded confusedly. "Yes, of course I remember…it was our last lesson together…" a strange emotion flew across his grey eyes.

"Do you remember Snape's expression then?" Harry pressed on.

A grin began to form on the ex-Death Eater's pale lips. "Hell, who doesn't? It was so…comical…" he mused, his grin widening as he began to loose himself in his memory.

"Continue to think about it, won't you?" the photographer raised his camera again, a small smile gracing his own lips as his model started to laugh, "about how his vampire-like face turned agape as Neville continued to talk? Making him look like a goldfish turned vampire?"

Draco turned to a full-blown laughter, shocking the people in the studio room as his whole face lightened with joy. "He's not vampire-like!" he gasped, his hand reaching for something, anything, to hold, and settled around a cushion, which was lying near his leg. "I'm paler than him, you know!"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I used to think that there is a vampire somewhere up along your bloodline…"

"I have a fully humane pedigree, thank you very much!" Draco turned to glare at Harry, stopping when he encountered a camera instead. Having eased his heart, he continued to grin at the black muggle invention, his eyes radiating happiness, enjoyment, and, not to forget, love. _The one behind that camera is Harry, not that creepy dog-like man with his eerie black eyes, _Draco said to himself. _Yes, Harry is watching me. _His smile widened even further at the notion, love rolling off his face in waves.

'This…' Emily thought, her breath caught in her throat, 'is the same Mr Malfoy who only stood awkwardly in front of the camera just now?' She blinked repeatedly at the beautiful blonde man. 'Gods…Harry, damn you're right his free smile is downright… stunning…'

Every other people in the room, the black-eyed photographer included, stood still with the same wide-eyed expression as Harry's manager, trying to breathe as softly as possible as if they were breathing too loudly the angel before their eyes would cower and fly away from them. Even the professional magazine's manager lost her composure.

Draco continued to grin and laugh and play with his cushion and other ornaments surrounding him, love shining brighter on his eyes as seconds ticked away, and Harry continued to talk to the blonde and take many pictures of his model, both losing themselves in their activity, and before long, Harry's camera was already humming, a signal that the film had been used up. The photographer put down his camera, surprised that he had taken that many photographs already, and took out the roll after the machine stopped humming. "Here," he turned and gave the negative to the executive woman, snapping her off her trance, and so as everyone else's. "Thank you," she said to the twenty-year-old green-eyed man shakily, "we are most grateful of your work. I will make sure that these outstanding photos will be printed in our next edition."

Harry and Draco looked at each other before Harry smiled to her. "Thank you for the opportunity too," he said politely before grabbing the ex-aristocrat's hand, "Now, if you don't mind, we would like to leave…"

"Oh, of course," the woman smiled, "It was nice working with you, Mr Evans, Mr Malfoy." She shook their hands briefly, and Harry walked briskly to the door as fast as he could, his model in tow.

"Harry," Emily gasped as the black-haired man passed her, and he turned to face her. "I'm sorry, Emily, can you talk later? I'm so tired I want to reach home soon. You understand, don't you?" He shot her an apologetic look.

"O-of course…" she responded, "I'll call you about your next job tomorrow, all right?"

The ex-Boy-Who-Lived flashed his manager a smile. "Thanks, Em," he said shortly before he disappeared from the door with Draco.

The two men didn't talk until they reached Harry's car. They were again driving along the road when Harry turned to his companion and finally opened his mouth. "Andre will be happy when he sees your photos in the magazine."

The blonde, who was again, looking at the buildings over the window, turned to his employer and smiled. "Yes, I guess so."

"So…" Harry continued as he focused on the road again, "how was your first photo session in a studio?"

He was replied with a snort. "It was horrible," Draco scowled, "I couldn't really think straight, there were too many people in the small room…and the photographer's black eyes…"

The ex-Gryffindor shrugged. "I don't understand why, really," he commented, "Snape's eyes are also black after all…and you weren't afraid of him at all…"

Draco stiffened in his seat. They were quiet once again before the blonde admitted, "I-I don't know, but I think…it's more the fact that I just can't bear it when you're not the one who is taking my picture…"

"Have you tried imagining that it was someone else behind the camera?" the other man inquired.

"I did," the paler man stated honestly, "I imagined that you were behind that camera, but I just couldn't…"

"Hmm," Harry responded, "peculiar, isn't it?"

Draco didn't say anything.

They continued to drive in silence, mulling over that oddity before Harry pulled over at a corner a block away from where they were supposed to turn if they wanted to get back to their apartment. When Draco turned to look at Harry with wide confused eyes, the black-haired man only chuckled and said softly, "Let's not think about it, shall we? Would you like me to take you to a beach?" he beamed at him.

"A beach?" the model blinked.

The photographer frowned a little. "Why? Would you not like to go to a beach?" he asked concernedly.

Draco shook his head softly, his eyes slightly glazed over as he remembered about his last trip to a beach with his mother, his father absent as usual. "No, I'd like to go to a beach…it's just…it's been so long since I ever went to one…"

Harry's concerned frown transformed to a full-blast grin. "Good! Let's go now, shall we?"

The ex-Death Eater smiled too and nodded before whipping his head to his employer as he remembered something. "How about Cliff? You're not going to leave him again, will you?"

The ex-Saviour groaned and turned the car back quickly, laughing as Draco lost his breath at the sharp movement. "You're right. We'll go back to our apartment first to take Cliff and some other stuff. And then, beach, off we go!" the bigger man of the two turned to his petite employee and gave him a lop-sided grin.

Draco only shook his head and smiled at that mad expression on his ex-archrival face.

TBC

A/N: Cliff is taken from The Duck of Mr Fredward, an old Japanese manga which I doubt anyone of you know, anyway, but I love it. Tell me what you think about this chapter please!


	4. Chapter 4

**Take a Picture of Me, Harry**

By: Aria DC al Fine

Disclaimer: Not mine

Warning: M-rated Scene. Email me or send me a message to get it.

Chapter 3

Nearly a month had passed. Harry and Draco had had many more photo sessions here and there, under the stars or under the rain or at the beach or on a busy street in the centre of the city, either planned or spurred in instances by Draco's sudden breathtaking expressions, and now, the blonde was so used to seeing the green-eyed man raising his camera at him he didn't need a long time to convince himself that he was in love with Harry through the lens anymore. The photographer just had to raise the muggle contraption at the blonde, and a second or two later, Draco would be smiling softly at him, happiness and love shining through his grey orbs, producing the most beautiful photos on earth.

Today, Harry decided to do the photo session in his studio. It was rare but not that seldom, because the ex-Gryffindor noticed that Draco seemed more free when he was outside, especially so in nature. But they eventually ran out of potential natural scenes, anyway, and autumn, with its pretty gold and red coloured falling leaves, was not yet to come, so Harry had to take it inside.

The studio was decorated with gentle coloured cushions, sashes and big mattresses which were placed side by side and covered by cream-coloured cotton bed sheets, soft lighting draping over everything. The blonde himself was sitting in the middle of the joint mattresses, dressed in a long-sleeved lighter cream-coloured silk shirt, top three buttons open, and a pair of loose slacks in the same colour as the shirt. He was looking absently at the pillows. Harry, who was setting his camera, glanced at his model and sighed. Draco looked like the most innocent angel ever.

Soon enough, Harry finished the setting, and raised the camera. "Same instructions, Draco. You know what to do. Don't feel confined in the room, or nervous, since you're going to be looking at my direction coincidentally more often. Try every look: sad, lonely, content, happy, lazy, any expression you can think of, but the most important thing is, you mustn't forget, that there must be love laden in every one of them. Are you ready?"

The model responded by grabbing the nearest cushion and hugged it in his arms, his face settling to a heartbreaking loneliness that gave the impression that he was waiting, alone, for the person he loves, to come back to him, the hurt, the pain, the fear that his lover wasn't returning to him, all evident in his grey eyes.

Harry ignored the ache in his heart and took a snap of the picture.

Draco was always trying his hardest to show any emotion perfectly. He hugged his bent legs and laid the side of his head on his kneecaps, his eyes looking despondently at an empty corner at the room, eyes radiating pure sorrow, face scrunching slightly as if he was going to cry, in which Harry took a photo of after once again, ignoring the ache in his heart, before the blonde changed his expression to another.

It was harder to show emotions in a studio, because there was nothing to spur that sentiment personally, like the beauty of a freshly blooming morning glory, or the broken form of a dead bird. To be able to really show the emotions, Draco had to search deep within his memories and responded to it, like his fear of Lucius and the Dark Lord, the sadness he felt at the revelation of Narcissa's death, or put himself in a 'what if' situations where Harry left him cold and alone forever. Draco gripped his arms unconsciously and scrunched his face even more, tears really falling out of his eyes. _No…_he cried silently and reached out with one hand, his face falling even more when he grasped at thin air. _Don't leave me…_

The blonde cried some more, and Harry wiped his tears and let him be until he recovered from his intense trance. Then, the two of them proceeded.

In the confinement of the studio that day, Draco practically attempted to show almost every emotion that exists on earth. He showed happiness and excitement by bouncing off the mattress and dancing around the bed. He showed contentment by snuggling to a big cushion, his eyes half closed with laziness, a soft smile curling on his pale thin lips. He even slept innocently like an angel, his body settling comfortably against a cushion, before Harry had to literally wake him up. He showed anger and hatred by punching the pillows and messing the sashes around, his grey irises flashing silver with fiery furies. He showed fear by bending to a fetal position of a ball, making himself look as small as possible against the wall, his eyes looking frightfully at an imaginary bogeyman, a memory of the Dark Lord, probably. And so on. And so on.

Almost an hour later, Draco was playing with the sashes, running to let them trail behind his body and twirling around with it. When he caught sight of Harry and his camera, he smiled joyfully and invitingly at the photographer, leaving Harry breathless and needing.

_The person I love is watching me_ Draco said to himself, his heart beating so fast it almost burst with the love he felt at the man behind the camera _Harry is watching me. _He moved closer to the black-haired man unconsciously and stretched out his hands, his loving expression begging Harry to take his stretched hands. _Love me too, Harry, love me!_

Before Draco even knew it, he had already gotten so close to Harry and placed both hands on the ex-Gryffindor's shoulders. Fascinated at the intense expression on his blonde model's face, Harry couldn't help but lower his camera down, away from his face, and before he could say anything, Draco leaned forward and caught his lips in a kiss.

Harry froze. He couldn't move at all. His mind was telling him that probably Draco had got carried away by the love he had to feel to Harry through the camera and that he should push the other man away before they both regretted it, but when the blonde started moving his lips against his, all rational thoughts went out of the window and fell splat on the road twenty-five storey below. The photographer dropped his camera, which fell to a big cushion nearby with a soft thud and rolled until its lens was facing the two men upside down, the button accidentally pressed against the pillow and clicked away repeatedly, taking pictures of Harry and Draco, who were engaging themselves in an intimate situation.

As soon as the camera fell down, Draco moved closer to Harry and wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck, standing on his toes to press open-mouthed kisses against the other man's slightly chapped lips. Harry deepened the kiss by nibbling Draco's lower lip before slipping his tongue into the blonde's mouth, his arms wrapping themselves around the blonde's slim waist.

Draco moaned. All his life, he had never felt something as strong as this. Don't get him wrong, he had had sex. With girls, nevertheless, but never, in the world, had his heart ached and his body craved for the other's touch as madly as this. _I love him and he loves me_ he thought as he slipped his tongue to Harry's mouth. _Gods, I love you Harry…_

They continued to kiss passionately as if there was no tomorrow, tongues dancing fierily with each other, before Draco sucked Harry's tongue and moved his lips to trail wet kisses along his jaw prior to nibbling on a sensitive spot below Harry's left ear. Harry moaned before pushing Draco off a little and attacked the smaller man's pale neck himself, biting and lapping at the skin as the ex-Slytherin threw his head back to give the black-haired man easier access. "Gods…Harry…" he whimpered in pleasure.

Harry continued to trail kisses down to his chest, his hands moving to unbutton the shirt completely and slipping the material off the blonde's shoulders, his lips feasting on every newly discovered patch of skin. Only when he finally reached the bulge in the blonde's slacks, did the photographer finally realise what he was doing to his model. He stopped his ministrations and stood back up straightly. "Draco…" he said to the blonde with wide fearful eyes.

The ex-Slytherin opened his grey eyes and turned his face, which was flushing deliciously, to Harry's. He looked disappointed…and…sad? "Harry," he said hoarsely, "Why did you stop?"

The ex-Gryffindor frowned, not expecting his ex-archrival to behave this way. "Do you know what we were doing to each other?" Harry said desperately, "You were carried away by the love you have to feel towards me through the camera, Draco. I don't want you to regret this tomorrow."

Instead of understanding Harry's point, Draco only scrunched his face even further. "I admit I was carried away, but I know what I was doing," he protested firmly before looking at his photographer with a firm stare, "I won't regret it tomorrow. I love you, Harry. With or without the camera."

Harry's green eyes widened. He stared at the blonde to study his face, to study his eyes, to see if he was really serious or not, and the ex-Boy-Who-Lived was surprised to find that Draco was honestly somber about what he had said, the solemnity apparent in his hard grey orbs. The black-haired man's heart began to quell with warm and happiness before he smiled and said to the smaller half-naked man in front him, "Thank you, Draco," he almost sobbed, "thank you."

Before the blonde could register what was happening, Harry pulled Draco's body close to him and brought their mouths to a crash, both moaning at the feeling of each other's lips against each other's. Harry then trailed his kisses down Draco's chest again…

(CENSORED)

Harry tried to swallow as much as he could before laying his damp head tiredly between Draco's thighs. They took a while to recompose their breaths, and after they had, Harry crawled to his lover's side and took his body to his arms, his lips descending upon Draco's lips again. They continued to kiss lazily for some time before lying comfortably on the bed, snuggling to each other's warm bodies, spent, but happy.

The couple was staying in silence, Harry petting Draco's long blonde hair and Draco tracing a pattern on Harry's arm when Harry asked 'the' question. "Why do you fall in love with me?"

Harry felt the blonde tensing in his arms, and he tightened his hold around his lover's body, silently telling him that he wouldn't leave Draco alone, and smiled when his model relaxed and turned to face him.

"I don't know, really," the blonde frowned lightly, "It's just…there. I guess it first came to me when I refused to be taken photo of by anyone but you. I am always looking at you with love when you have the camera in front of your face, your green eyes watching me intensely…. I am in love with you through the camera, have always been since the day you got me Cliff, and suddenly I just realised that even without the camera, even when you don't have it covering your face I am still…in love with you…"

Harry hmmed in understanding.

Draco was tracing a pattern on Harry's arm again when he added, "I am always thinking about you, you know…" Harry raised his eyebrow and Draco blushed, but he continued, anyway, "I mean, you're not that bad…aside for being too righteous but-" the blonde giggled as Harry gave him a punch and said, 'Hey!' before pouting to him, "But yeah, you're a nice guy. I came to learn that I can love you even without this model-photographer business." He smiled to Harry and the ex-Gryffindor smiled back at him.

"How did you realise that you love me even without the camera?" Harry asked after another silence.

"I had a dream, you see," Draco closed his beautiful eyes and laid his head on Harry's clothed chest, "In that dream, I saw you leaving me for another model, a more gorgeous man, and when I woke up I cried and cried until I had to stop myself, for I was feeling so scared and heartbroken and…terrified…" the blonde gulped and Harry's hand moved to pet his hair reassuringly. Draco smiled to Harry's neck and carried on, "…so I figured that if I was only in love with you through the camera, I wouldn't have felt that way…so…"

"I see," Harry nodded, "so that's why your eyes were so bloodshot that day last week…"

Draco blushed slightly. "Errm…yeah…"

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence again for a long time. Draco was about to close his eyes and sleep when Harry finally said a word. "Draco?"

"Hmm?" the model answered lazily.

Harry looked down at him pensively. "If that feeling of brokenhearted-ness and fear is what you feel at the prospect of living without me that makes you realise that you are in love with me…then…" The ex-Gryffindor smiled as the blonde turned his full attention to him and continued, "Since I also cannot bear the prospect of living without you…then… I think I fell in love with you too, Draco."

Draco lifted himself up to stare unbelievingly at Harry before his face broke into a grin. He threw himself at his lover and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I love you, Harry."

Harry laughed at his ex-rival before returning the hug. "I love you too, Draco."

The two of them didn't release their hug until they fell asleep on the mattress, forgetting about the camera, which was still lying upside down a distance away from them, the object humming silently as a signal that the roll of film had been used up.

---------------------------------

"What?" Harry exclaimed in shock and scratched his head confusedly, messing his sleep-mussed hair even more. "The roll of film's used up? That's weird…"

"Morning, Harry," Draco said from behind him and kissed the taller man's cheek as he reached out for a loaf of bread from the centre of the dining table, the blonde's body smelling fresh of soap, "what's weird?" he asked as he sat down on the chair opposite to his photographer, who was also his new lover.

The green-eyed man lifted his camera from the table and said again, "The film's used up. I didn't recall ever using it up yesterday."

"You'd taken so many photos yesterday, it's not a wonder that the film's used up, really," his grey-eyed counterpart remarked as he was sipping his morning coffee.

Harry only frowned even deeper. "I changed the film once already; I remember that I still had about twenty more…" he insisted unconvincingly, his whole body still radiating sleepiness. He was still dressed in yesterday's clothing after all.

"Harry," Draco put down his cup and looked at him, his cheeks tingeing pink, "maybe you were wrong. We were rather…preoccupied…yesterday, don't you remember?"

The ex-Boy-Who-Lived blushed furiously before he stuttered, "b-but!", still trying to persist his point to the blonde.

"The film's used up, that muggle contraception can't be wrong. Just work on the negatives to see what the photos are, won't you? After all, Emily's coming tomorrow to see the photos for the exhibition." He stood up from his seat and put his cup into the sink. The exiled wizard was about to walk away to the living room when he turned back to his employer to say something. "Do take a shower before you begin though. I love the fact that you smell like sex now – (Harry blushed furiously again while Draco smirked) but hygiene is very important. I'm going to take Cliff to a walk around the city today, I won't return until sunset. Happy working, Harry," he smiled and waved at the ex-Gryffindor before the small blonde was thrown off his feet by a huge and eager Golden Retriver. "Cliff!" Draco yelped and pushed the dog off his body, "naughty mutt! Stop licking me or I won't take you out!"

The smart creature stopped assaulting his owner and sat up straight, wagging his long golden tail as Draco got back to his feet. "Bye, Harry!" he said one last time, and the two blonde males disappeared through the door.

Harry waved at them smilingly, but he sighed to his camera as soon as they were gone. Right, he told himself, it wasn't the time to brood. He had two rolls of film to work on, if he wanted to get them done before sunset he had better started now. With that in mind, Harry stood up and put his cup into the sink before walking to the dark room. On second thought, he mused as he turned his feet away to the bathroom, I probably should take a shower first, or else Draco would be mad…

-----------------------------

A few hours after that, wrapped in a clean shirt and body freshly smelling of soap, Harry was hanging his photos to dry, chemicals dripping from each piece of paper. He smiled in satisfaction as he finished hanging every one of them and walked out of the dark room for a while to wait for his photos to dry up and eat his lunch, a simply cooked spaghetti bolognaise, before he would go into the room again an hour later, his mind intent on finding why the hell those twenty or so remaining film had been used up mysteriously.

The photographer walked between the rows of drying pictures, his eyes watching every one of them. Occasionally, he would smile at some particular photos, because the Draco in those picture had been too cute, become breathless when the love in the blonde's eyes had been too intense, even better now that Harry knew that the emotion was real, that his model loved him even without the camera, or try to ignore the ache in his heart when the exiled wizard had been too sad and frightened. Harry's lips curled to a soft self-satisfied smile at all the photos in his first roll of film, before moving on to the pictures in the second roll, the mystery roll.

The first sixteen photos had been expected. After all, it was only a continuation of the first roll. No, the shock came to Harry when his eyes fell to the seventeenth photo in the row. "Oh my God," he gasped.

The seventeenth photo was a picture of Draco and Harry kissing madly, their lips latched on to one another's like the world was ending, body pressing to each other as though they could fuse to each other by doing that. Another thing was that the photo was upside down, but the fact didn't register to the black-haired man's mind that time.

Harry continued walking down the row, his green eyes widening to an impossible size as he was reaching the end of the row. But the best was always saved for the last. And indeed, it was. When Harry reached the last photo in the row, he fell onto his bottom to the floor, all strength leaving his legs, but his eyes were still glued to the picture, captured by its beauty, his head feeling very faint from lack of oxygen.

"Draco…"

-----------------------------------

"Harry, I'm home!" Draco shouted into the apartment as he let Cliff go inside first, laughing at the dog's enthusiasm and wondering if the Golden Retriever ever felt tired at all. His laughter quickly died down though, when he realised that the apartment was unlighted, and there wasn't any answer from his black-haired loved. "Harry?" the grey-eyed blonde repeated, a sense of dread entering his heart as he was replied with a stark silence.

The small-sized man continued to enter the apartment, his whole body tense as if he was expecting someone to leap at him from the shadows. He relaxed immediately when he saw his lover sitting on the sofa in the living room, his back facing him. "Harry!" Draco cried in relief before running to hug the ex-Gryffindor, "why hadn't you answered me? I was so scared!"

Harry jolted in surprise. He really didn't hear the blonde coming. "Draco!" he gasped, astonished, "when were you back?"

The ex-Slytherin frowned. "Just now. Didn't you hear?" he asked confusedly as he settled down next to his boyfriend, his frown deepening as Harry shook his head. He was about to press the subject even further when he lay his eyes on the rows and rows of photographs arranged carefully on the low-lying glass table. Draco bent down to look at them and smiled. "You're sorting the photographs for the exhibition?"

"Yeah," the photographer answered absentmindedly, "Emily told me to pick 40 to 50 best ones, balancing on variable emotions…" as he spoke, he took a piece of photo from the table and put it down to a stack, "they're the ones that were eliminated," he explained briefly when the model of his photos looked searchingly at it.

"Hmm…no wonder you couldn't hear me, you were too preoccupied…" Draco muttered under his breath and looked over the photos on the table, smiling when he remembered where and when each of them was taken. He exceptionally liked the one taken in the Ocean World, and when he told Harry about it, the ex-Gryffindor smiled as well. "Yeah, I love it too. You look so happy and beautiful there, the fishes swimming in the tank behind you."

The blonde blushed before he continued to look at the pictures. He was almost finished when he suddenly realised one odd thing. "Harry?" he asked his photographer, "why is there only one picture from yesterday's photo session? The one of my lonely look? I thought you took a lot of good ones yesterday."

The man in question stopped dead. The two of them fell silent for a while, golden rays of sunset entering the dim room through the window, before Harry finally said, "Take the photo on the upper left hand corner, the one furthest away from you, and look at it."

Puzzled by the instruction, Draco just obeyed anyway, stretching his petite body over the long table to grab the photo before sitting back on the sofa, his side leaning on Harry's side. When his eyes fell over that photo, the blonde momentarily forgot how to breathe.

For in that photo, Draco was lying on the mattress from yesterday's photo session, his whole upper body naked, his face scrunching in pure pleasure, damp silvery blonde hair splaying on the bed, pink flushes covering his sweaty pale white skin. His arms were tense, and his hands were clutching at the cream-coloured sheets dearly with all his might. His swollen lips were open, and his eyes, his grey eyes, they were shining with desire, lust, and love, love so intense that it almost hurt, immense love for the person who was pleasuring him, who was causing him to look that way, wanton and needing and loving that person so much his heart might burst-

With so much difficulty, the model wrenched his eyes away from the photo, his breathing heavy, his skin tingling with desire. As he was panting, Draco vaguely realised that he was hard. He turned shakily to his lover when Harry tapped his shoulder, his own grey eyes wide with shock and lust. "I-I…" he stammered, "Is it me?" he asked unbelievingly.

Harry nodded quietly, his breaths getting heavy, his hand shaking slightly as well. "Yes," he answered after a while, "…beautiful, aren't you?" he whispered huskily, his hand reaching to stroke the blonde's cheek.

"I-I…" Draco purred at the touch and leaned unconsciously to his lover's hand, "I never realised I am that b-beautiful…"

"You are…" Harry muttered deliriously, bringing the smaller man's lips closer to his and both of them pressed their bodies together. "Remember the mystery roll that's used up?" the photographer breathed warmly to Draco's lips, and the grey-eyed man nodded, his head feeling extremely dizzy with pleasure, they were so close…so close…but not close enough…

"The camera…" the ex-Gryffindor insisted excruciatingly, brushing his lips against his lover's pale lips, both moaning as they felt the fire coursing through their nerves, "after I dropped it, it rolled. The cushion pressed on the button after accidentally setting the timer option…so it took out picture every ten seconds…and…" Harry couldn't take it anymore, he brought their mouths to a crash and began kissing Draco like there was no tomorrow.

After that, things happened in a blur. All they could remember was pleasure, pleasure burning the ends of their nerves as they touched and kissed each other, pleasure streaming through their bodies as Harry entered Draco and became one with him, and, most importantly, immense love, love too intense shining from each other's eyes it made their hearts ache.

When they were conscious again, they were laying comfortably in Harry's bed, arms wrapped around each other, legs entangled intimately under the blankets, their bodies reeking of sweat and sex. But they didn't mind it at all.

"So…are you going to enter that picture to the exhibition?" Draco asked after a long comfortable silence, his finger tracing the veins on Harry's left arm.

"Of course," Harry used his right hand to pet his long blonde hair prior to planting a kiss on the top of his lover's head, "you're too beautiful to be kept in a cupboard, love, too beautiful." He continued to pet Draco's hair until the blonde fell back asleep on his body. Harry smiled at his cute, angelic sleeping form, before he closed his eyes as well.

"Simply too beautiful," he whispered one last time as he was losing his consciousness.

---------------------------------

"WHAT?" Draco covered his ears with his hands as Harry screamed his head off at the handle of his phone, "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

The blonde sighed and moved himself out of the room when his photographer continued to argue with Emily via the telephone. They were always like that. How they could work for each other was beyond Draco (and beyond me too, apparently). The lithe grey-eyed boy was about to play with Cliff and ignore the commotion that was happening in the living room when he heard the green-eyed photographer banging the handle of the phone down before storming into the room Draco was currently residing. "…that cunning sadistic bitch…" the model caught some of the curses Harry was muttering under his breath and shook his head.

He let Harry off for a while to let out some steams before he approached his lover carefully. "What's wrong?" the ex-Death Eater asked the ex-Saviour of Wizarding World quietly when he was tucked safely in his arms.

Harry blinked at him, as though he just realised that Draco was in the room, and scowled at nothing in particular. "It's Emily. She's very happy about your erotic photo (both men blushed as soon as Harry said that) but she also said that your sad photos aren't enough. She wanted me to have one last photo session with you and without that she refused to coordinate the exhibition… that bitch…" the photographer sighed heavily.

This time it was Draco who blinked up at Harry. "My sad photos are not enough?" he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, "but you snapped a lot of them last week, and the week before, under the rain. And then there is my lonely photo. Are they not enough?"

"Oh, no, no Draco. They are enough. The thing is, Emily wants me to take a picture that is comparable to 'Broken Angel' in terms of intensity of negative emotions," the ex-Gryffindor explained painfully, "or else the exhibition will be unbalanced. Too many intense happy photos and so few good touching ones…"

"I see…" the model stood up from Harry's embrace and offered his hand to his employer. The black-haired man only blinked at the pale hand in confusion. "Draco?" he asked his lover unsurely.

"Well, we'll just have to have it, right? One more photo session?" Draco smiled to Harry, "I want the exhibition to be a success, Harry."

"B-but," the photographer protested and sighed again, "I really don't want to do what Emily had suggested to me to you," he said quietly and lovingly.

"Come on, Harry," the blonde pulled the black-haired man to his feet with all his strength, "we have to do what has to be done," Draco stated before walking out of the apartment. "I'll wait for you in the studio. Come quickly, won't you?" he smiled at his lover one last time before disappearing through the door.

Harry took all that he needed for the photo session and followed his model to the studio gravely, his legs feeling as though they were as heavy as lead. Or even heavier.

-------------------------------

Draco blinked at the bandages that were wrapped loosely around his whole body, which was naked except for a white pair of boxers. Red body paint was splayed on some parts of the bandages and his skin, to show as if he was bleeding. Aside from that, the dimly-lighted studio was decorated very simply, with a threadbare mattress placed at the centre of the area, all windows closed by the curtains, preventing sunlight from entering the room.

After Harry was done with the settings of his camera, he moved towards Draco, who was sitting at the edge of the worn bed, and draped a black material over his shoulder. "All right, here's the instruction," the photographer cleared his throat to attract his model's attention when the blonde was looking at the black material blankly; "I want you to look sad, hurt, and fearful but at the same time a little hopeful and, as usual, loving. The scenario is: you have an extremely abusive boyfriend. You are afraid of him, you feel tremendously heartbroken when he beats you, but you can't deny that you love him, love him very much, and you can't help but hope that one day, he'll stop hurting you. When you look at my camera, I want you to imagine that my camera is your abusive boyfriend. Do you think you can do it?"

Draco looked up and nodded determinedly. "I'll try, Harry."

Harry smiled to his lover, who was also his model, the most beautiful person in this world to his eyes, and raised his camera. "Let's start then."

Like usual, Draco tried his hardest to fulfil his instructions. This time the directions were a little bit hard, though; Draco could never, for the love of God, imagine Harry as an abusive boyfriend, so again, he used his old tactics and drown himself in the memories of his past, and in 'what if' situations: his fear of Lucius and the Dark Lord, his sadness of his mother's death, his tremendous love towards Harry, his hope that they would be together forever, his hurt and vulnerability if Harry ever decided to leave him…Draco tried to show all these emotions through his eyes whenever he was looking at the camera.

After some time, Harry admitted: the photos were good. Draco's eyes were shining with all the correct passions: fright, misery, pain, helplessness, hope, and bright love, but somehow…somehow…the blonde still didn't look right. The feelings weren't deep enough, the way Draco moved his body wasn't natural enough. If the photographer didn't do something, they would not be able to produce a melancholic photography that could compare to 'Broken Angel'.

So Harry did. He never thought that he would ever do something like this, neither would he ever forgive himself for it, but he did it anyway. He put down his camera, letting the object hang around his neck, and approached the frail-looking blonde.

Draco looked up at him, surprised, his innocent grey eyes wide, as he asked him confusedly. "Harry?"

Harry didn't say anything. He simply backhanded Draco across his left cheek, sending the petite man sprawling a few feet away.

The blonde took a moment to recover, and when he sat up, he stared at his black-haired counterpart with a pair of truly hurt and heartbroken glazing grey eyes, his mouth agape, his hand holding his bruised cheek in disbelief, the rest of his limp body trembling slightly in fear, the black material slipping off his shoulder. "H-harry…" he gasped painfully. Harry tried all his might to ignore the pang in his chest, and took a picture of his wounded boyfriend, before he continued to advance to the other man with a fierce expression on his face, his hand opening the buckle of his belt and slipping the leather off his waist with a smooth reverberation. The ex-Gryffindor folded his belt once before pulling the straps taut, creating a loud 'snap!' sound which made his lover cringe frightfully and inch closer to the wall, his body shaking more badly now. "H-Harry…" he called him again in a small weak voice, as the bigger man towered over his terrified form, "p-please don't…"

Harry took some photos of the scene again before he glared silently at Draco, his green eyes cold and merciless, not betraying the turmoil of conflicting guilt and pains in his heart. The ex-Gryffindor raised his hand, and before he could hold on long enough to have second thoughts, he brought the piece of leather to his lover's back.

The object hit Draco's pale skin hard with another loud 'snap!' and the petite man gasped at the sting, his shuddering body giving out before him as he fell to his stomach. It was a wrong move, of course, as his stretched body further exposed him to Harry's assault. The photographer tried his hardest to numb his heart as he whipped the blonde again, who only hissed flinched futilely at each attack. "H-Harry…" the ex-Slytherin breathed, and looked up at Harry's tall cruel form, his face scrunching in pain and sadness, his scared eyes asking, 'why, why, Harry?', but at the same time hopeful and loving, one hand reaching out to his suddenly violent boyfriend, "s-stop…please…"

The ex-Boy-Who-Lived winced inwardly but took another photo, anyway and moved to get a better angle for the next snap as his model began to sit up on his legs, before continuing this unbearable torture. For both of them.

Draco learned fast though. After a few more whips, he knew not to expose so much of his body and recoiled to a ball, trying to make himself as tiny as possible, one hand clutching the dark material that was still draping over his shoulder tightly until his knuckles turned white. The model persisted to shrink back even further as the belt hit his skin repeatedly, his eyes closed to shut the ache away, before he couldn't take it anymore. He opened his expressive grey eyes after he turned to look at his lover, a tear falling to his unwounded cheek. "Why, Harry?" he finally voiced shakily, "why?"

Harry drew his breath sharply and furrowed his eyebrows. Draco's face was simply too…crumpled, too dejected, too hurt, his wide silvery eyes fearful, but still hopeful – there were too much conviction and love, unconditional love that won over all, that made him persevere in trusting this man, in believing that this would be over soon and forgotten like an unwanted nightmare. It was too much for Harry. He couldn't continue this anymore. After taking a photo of this heartbreaking scene, he dropped the belt and fell to his knees, his hands stretching to embrace the blonde. "I'm sorry, Draco," Harry murmured to the man in his arms, tears streaming out of his own green eyes endlessly, "Gods, Draco…" he choked, his body shuddering, "I'm so, so sorry…I'm so sorry…" he just couldn't stop sobbing.

The smaller man simply smiled softly as he laid his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, his nose nuzzling the ex-Saviour's neck. "It's okay…" he whispered and closed his eyes, his long blonde eyelashes tickling Harry's skin slightly, "I'm glad that this is over…"

"Gods…" Harry tightened his held around his lover, "I swear it's not going to happen again…I'm…I'm fucking sorry that I hurt you…I…"

"Sshhh…" Draco whispered to comfort the other man and raised his hand to touch his face, "It's okay, Harry, I forgive you…"

But Harry continued to cry, anyway, until he had no tears left to shed.

----------------------------

"Where's Emily?" a green-eyed avenging angel growled as he opened the door, his angry expression growing scarier as he couldn't find her in the room immediately. "Tell me where that bitch is!" Harry snarled at the lady sitting behind the table nearest to him.

She looked like she was about to piss in her own panty when she stood up and stuttered, "I-I'll get her straight away, sir!" before she flew across the room and disappeared through another door.

"Harry," Draco chided to him softly from behind Harry's back, "is that really necessary?"

But the photographer didn't hear his model. No, he was far too angry to hear anything.

Soon enough, Emily appeared from the door the scared lady disappeared to and greeted her colleague with a cheerful smile. "Hey, Harry, Draco! How are my two favourite people in the world today?"

"You Sadistic Bitch!" Harry roared to his manager, "I'm never listening to you and your atrocious ideas again!"

The blue-eyed woman looked taken aback, but not, by all means, scared. "What happened? The photos turned out fine, didn't they?" she asked worriedly.

Harry threw a few pieces of photos to her feet harshly. She looked over them frowningly, the crease of her eyebrows ceasing as she reached over the last photos. "Why, aren't they great?" Emily said to the photographer she was working for enthusiastically, "They're even more heartbreaking than 'Broken Angel'!"

Instead of smiling, the black-haired man only snarled again, "What do you think I had to do to be able to get those, huh?"

Emily looked at him blankly, still not understanding why he was so angry. "Why, a few make up here and there, right? The bruise on Draco's cheeks looks very real…" she commented appraisingly.

"It doesn't _look_ real, dammit!" Harry shot out, his face flushing furiously, and at his manager's confused stare, he pulled Draco, who was protesting to him, from his back, "It _IS_ real!"

Emily leaned to the blushing blonde and gasped as she realised that, indeed, the bruise was real. It looked nastier up close, the colour stark purple on Draco's pale skin and swelling a little and…

"You know that Draco's not the type of model who does 'fake' expressions," Harry shouted to his manager and bit his lips, "to be able to produce something that is comparable to 'Broken Angel' I must inflict something to him that will spur him to show intense breathtaking expressions and-" Suddenly, Harry's green eyes, which were flashing brightly with wrath, began to look glossy. As he sucked in a breath, his body shuddering, a tear fell to his cheek, "Y-you don't know what I had to do to him…" he managed to say before he choked and put his face to his hands.

"Oh Gods…" Emily fully realised the implication and rushed to the photographer, her hand petting his shoulder to calm his trembling form, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Harry…"

"I hate you!" Harry gasped, his face looking up at her, "I hate you for asking me to do this! I hate you for making me…hurt Draco…" he broke at his last sentence and cried even more.

"Ssshh…" Draco tried, his arms hugging his lover soothingly, "I forgive you, Harry, I really do…Stop doing this to yourself…"

"How can you…" Harry shook his head at the blonde, "how can you still love me? After all those things I did to you?"

"Because I do," the grey-eyed man patted his black hair and smiled, "I love you, Harry, I forgive you."

Emily frowned as she watched the two men hugging themselves tightly. In her life, she had never hated herself as much as this. "I'm sorry…" she said again, catching his colleagues' attentions. "I really am," she furrowed her eyebrows as they turned their heads to her. "I'm going to really compensate it. I'm going to work my arse off for the exhibition, Harry, I promise!" She finally said steadily, her eyes firm and determined.

Harry and Draco smiled to themselves before releasing each other's body and nodded to their manager. "I'm leaving everything to you, Emily," the photographer said as he was about to turn to the exit.

"Just leave it to me, Harry," Emily responded unwaveringly, "I'm not going to disappoint you."

The two men gave her a nod before the two left the office.

'I promise, Harry, Draco,' Emily swore to herself after they departed, 'I'm going to work my best for this exhibition! You just wait; it's definitely going to be a big success!'

TBC

A/N: Well, it's all good and well for Harry and Draco now, isn't it? Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, though…

Again, please let me know what you think about this chapter.

Love

Aria DC al Fine


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